In Plain Sight
by Sanguine Sovereign
Summary: How does a modern day vampire stay fed, pay bills, and keep their true nature a secret? They get a job drawing blood of course. Bubbline Real World(ish) AU


**Chapter 1: How to hide in plain sight**

 **Listen up folks, 'cause I'm only gonna say this once.**

 **Disclaimer:** **The following is a nonprofit work of fan made fiction. All characters, music, and so on are the intellectual property of their respective creators. Please support the official release.**

 **Hello all. I am Sanguine Sovereign, and I'd like to share a little story with you. A while back I started reading the works of the illustrious, industrious author extraordinaire Plesiosaur. We had a little chat one day, and the idea of a phlebotomist (medical tech who does blood draws) who is secretly a vampire started knocking around in my head. Since Plesi was wonderful enough to write a story for my partner in crime Aubs and I, I figured I'd try (key word there: TRY) to thank them with a fic they could read, and enjoy too. And, well... This happened. It's a real world(ish) AU following a phlebotomist vampire Marceline as she uses her job to stay fed, have some fun with the fact that no one knows what she really is, romances a certain candy princess turned doctor, and deals with some supernatural business we won't get into just yet. So far the story is planned for four to six chapters, but that may change.**

 **As previously mentioned, this story would never have been written if it wasn't for the incomparable Plesiosaur, who inspired the concept and was also kind enough to give it a beta read as well. Their work is absolutely amazing. Seriously, if you haven't read any of Plesi's Bubbeline fics before, then stop wasting your time with this, and go check out the Foundlings trilogy, 40 Weeks, Monster Love, really anything they've written. You can't go wrong with Plesi! I'd also like to take a moment, and recommend the always awesome CountingWithTurkeys. They have an ever growing list of one shots and short stories, but they're multi-chapter masterpiece Rehearsal is… well a masterpiece. Aaaaand now that I have a little more time on my hands I WILL finish reading it, and review. Finally. Heh Sorry CWT. Once more, if you're reading this instead of either Plesi or CWT's stuff then what are you doing?! Go! Check em out!**

 **Still here? Then there's one last matter before we begin. I would like to thank my co-author AUBurnSky93 for all their help with dialogue, and getting the story down. You typed for me when my hand was all jacked up Aubs. You're getting a co-author credit. ;-P**

 **Recommended Listening:**

 **Back In Black - AC/DC**

 **Time - Pink Floyd**

 **Content Warning:**

 **An almost naked Bongo**

 **Offscreen death**

 **LSP being LSP**

 **A bad rock paper scissors joke**

* * *

 **There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.**

 **William Shakespeare, Hamlet**

* * *

Ben "Bongo" Weatherly had had a _very_ long day. Really, any day at Candy County's James H. Quillin Memorial Hospital was long by default, but they were especially trying during the holiday season. Cold and flu season was in full swing, holiday travel meant more car accident patients, and, just as the cherry on top, they even had some poor kid who'd lost an eye setting off fireworks on New Years. Bongo's guts twisted into knots just thinking about that one.

Still, life goes on. Best enjoy it while you can. That piece of advice from a veteran nurse had seen the twenty something phlebotomist through everything Quillin Memorial could throw at a person in the last five years. Now it served as a reminder that his life had to go on no matter how much he wanted to just head home and pass out.

The seasonal jump in patients had kept Bongo from his usual after shift run around the hospital's small park for the last two weeks, but he was determined to get one in tonight. So, when he reached his old jeep, Bongo stopped to take a long look around the employee parking lot for any potential onlookers. At Quillin, male lab staffers were outnumbered by around three to one. Naturally, this meant that the lab staff locker room had long ago been ceded to the women, and the men's only options for a changing room were the men's restroom or the parking lot. Bongo shuddered. He'd take the parking lot every time.

Bongo had gotten pretty good at changing in a hurry over the years, but he just wasn't fast enough tonight. He'd just dropped his scrub pants and tossed them into his car when the sound of a revving engine reached his ears. Bongo had just enough time to curse and duck behind his car door before a loud roar and a freezing, artificial wind whipped past him. Night shift had officially arrived.

Bongo just shook his head, and hurried to pull on a pair of sweats. He didn't need to look to know he'd just been buzzed by a sleek, red and black motorcycle. He didn't need to look to know that the rider had been female, or that there was a curtain of long, black hair trailing behind her like an ancient battle standard. It occured to Bongo that, by this point, he didn't even need to look up to know what the rider was more than likely wearing. After all, there was only one person he knew of crazy enough to drive like _that_ in a hospital zone, and what she lacked in sense, she more than made up for in style.

By the time Bongo was fully clothed again, the motorcycle had been parked a few spaces down, and it's owner had walked back over to him. Sure enough, when the black helmet came off, Marceline Abadeer greeted him with a cheeky grin. She was wearing the expensive, red boots she loved so, grey skinny jeans, a grey messenger bag (no doubt containing her scrubs and work shoes), and a black leather jacket with a stylized bat design screened on the back. When she unzipped her jacket to reveal a faded Ramones concert tee, Bongo gave himself a mental pat on the back for calling his friend's wardrobe perfectly. The downside of that kind of familiarity was that he also knew exactly what was coming next.

"Damn Bongo. I didn't know they actually made white boxers with little, red hearts on them." The dusky skinned woman nearly broke down into a fit of giggles. "I always just thought that was a bad comedy cliche!" The giggles won out in the end.

Bongo decided to just change the subject, and hope Marceline had a short attention span tonight. "You know Marcy, one of these days a patient or visitor is gonna catch you coming in, and call the cops instead of house security. They won't be nearly as nice as Billy about you flying around here like a bat out of hell."

Marceline just laughed even harder at that. A few months ago, Bongo would have thought the woman doubling over with laughter for no obvious reason was more than a bit odd. Now he barely noticed. That was just Marcy. She always laughed a little too hard, and sometimes for no real reason. Honestly, that was one of the things he liked most about the newest addition to night shift.

Marceline straightened back up after a moment, and fixed her lopsided grin back in place. "Oh poor, poor Bongo. You seriously haven't figured out how life really works yet have you?"

"Enlighten me oh wise and worldly one."

"Well, you see Bongo, Joshua Lowell is one of the most respected judges in Candy County, right? Right. If I ever get into any kind of trouble with the local boys in blue, all I have to do is give him a call." Marceline brought one hand up to her face as a stand-in phone. "Then I just say something like: 'Mr. Lowell? Hello. This is Marceline Abadeer. I work with your son Finn. Why, yes Mr. Lowell, I am the beautiful young lady who stopped Jake from being hit by a speeding ambulance last October.' After that, any charges short of murder will be gone faster than you can say nepotism."

Bongo just sighed, and ran a hand through his shaggy, brown hair. Everything Marcy had just said was probably one hundred percent correct, and he honestly didn't know if that was impressive or just plain scary. Thankfully his friend didn't leave him to "bask in her awesomeness" for long.

"So, how are we looking tonight?"

"It's still a packed house. You and the other night shift bloodsuckers have your work cut out for you."

Suddenly, all traces of his friend's usual humor were gone. Marceline lowered her voice to a whisper, and, with a perfectly straight face said, "Wait! You mean I'm not the only vampire on nights?" Bongo stood blinking in confusion for a second until Marceline threw her head back and launched into a fresh bout of laughter.

"Aww man. Sorry Bongo. I just couldn't resist. I gotta get going though. Take care of yourself man."

"Yeah you too Marcy."

Marceline turned, and started toward the hospital with a wave. Bongo started to head down to the park below them, but stopped short. Before he could think better of it he called out, "Hey Marcy!" When she turned, he fixed her with his best imitation of a stern look. "Seriously, cool it with the reckless endangerment ok? You can't charm your way out of things like that forever."

This seemed to strike the young woman as funny as well, but she managed to contain herself this time. She yelled back, "Don't bet on that one Bongo!" Then she was off again. In the privacy of her own mind, Marceline added, "I've been doing it since long before you were born, boy."

* * *

The world is full of cruel ironies. Marceline Abadeer had long ago decided that she was living dead proof of that. In her case, the irony came in the form of the perfect memory possessed by all vampires. The cruelty came from the fact that everything Marceline actually _wanted_ to remember happened when she was still human.

As best she knew, Marceline had been born just outside of Yorkshire, England in the year 1921. Information on her mother was scarce at best. The only things she knew for certain were that her mother had been of mixed British and Indian descent, and that she had died not long after Marceline was born. There was an almost endless supply of information about the… _thing_ , that had been her other parent though. You just had to know where to look. Marceline had learned all she cared to about him by virtue of his absence from her life. She kept the Abadeer name because her mother had stitched it into the baby blanket Marceline had treasured for nearly a century, but, so far as she was concerned, she didn't have a biological father.

With her mother gone, and the Thing never there, Marceline had ended up in an orphanage in Yorkshire. She had been far from alone. Just three years removed from the first World War, there had been no shortage of children without parents. That was one part of Marceline's earliest concrete memory. She had no recollection of the woman who gave her life, but she remembered the orphanage's matron telling her and the other children there wasn't enough food to go around well enough. She had gotten lucky though. She had gotten out.

One day, an odd, bookish man with chestnut hair, a scraggly beard, and thick spectacles had come to the orphanage. He had that he and his wife could not have children of their own, and that they wanted a little girl. A special girl. Marceline remembered lining up with all the other children, like she had a dozen times before then, and feeling her heart sink at those words. The man wanted a special girl, not a "half breed mongrel." To this day, Marceline was dead sure (no pun intended) that she had never been happier than when Simon Petrikov had walked straight to her, and asked if she wanted to be part of his family. She'd said yes, and that had been that.

Marceline spent the next eleven years as the adopted daughter of Simon and Betty Petrikov. Alive or undead, those were still the happiest years of her existence. They were magical. Literally. In short order, Marceline had learned that both of her adopted parents were among the few remaining humans who were not only aware of magic, but could use it for themselves. It had turned out that Simon was actually a sorcerer of some acclaim, and Betty was even more renowned in the magical community for her skill in alchemy. Naturally, this meant that a young Marceline had been given not only a traditional education about the natural world, but also lessons on the supernatural realm that exists just beneath its surface.

While other children from the village were learning boring family trades, like farming or blacksmithing, Marceline was learning to harness her latent magical potential. They toiled away for hours to grow food, and keep the fires of a forge roaring hot. She could make wild berries grow to ripeness in moments, and summon red hot flames from the ether with a gesture of her hand. They had cats and dogs for pets. She had a newly hatched water dragon that Simon brought back from his travels. Betty had chewed them both out for _hours_ when she went to the small lake near their cabin to do laundry, and received an extremely enthusiastic hello lick from little Bubbles. Eventually, they had ended up releasing the rapidly growing young drake in a certain loch after a trip to visit Betty's parents in Glasgow.

By far the best part of having adoptive parents schooled in the magical arts though, had been the toys. Marceline's classmates from the local schoolhouse had played with wooden swords, hand-me-down toy soldiers, and rough sewn ragdolls. Marceline had had a small, golden dagger, created by Betty to be harmless when play fighting with the other children, but viciously sharp against anyone who meant her adopted daughter true harm. "Always better to be safe than to be sorry." she had said. Later on, Simon had enchanted the same dagger to call her army of tiny, copper, toy soldiers (another product of Betty's ingenious alchemical abilities) to spring to life, and stage mock battles for his daughter's amusement.

Still, even surrounded by all these wonders of magic, little Marcy's favorite toy had always been her Hambo. The slightly off toy bear was positively mundane compared to her other toys, but he had been the very first gift Simon and Betty had ever given her. He had been waiting for her, with her new mother, to welcome her to her new home. He had soothed her fears on those first nights, in her new bed, and every other time after. He had made her feel safe and loved, just like her new mommy and daddy. He had stayed clutched in her arms wherever she went, and, most importantly, no matter how sure she was he was gone forever when lost or mislaid, her Hambo always found his way back into her loving embrace. Eventually, Marceline worked out that Simon had woven incredibly powerful spells into every last fiber of the stuffed bear to grant it these powers, but that revelation only made Hambo all the more precious to her. It made him the embodiment of all the joy, wonder, and love her adoptive parents brought into her once miserable young life. Yes, for eleven years, Marceline lived and learned happily with Simon and Betty... Now, all these decades later, she could only just barely remember Betty's face. That made two mothers she'd lost-

"MARCELINE ABADEER!"

Marceline jumped, and whirled to find out just who the hell thought they could get away with assaulting her poor, sensitive ears like that. Her anger vanished almost as quickly as it appeared when fellow phlebotomist Shelby Winters came into view. Shelby was a good foot shorter than Marceline. Between her short stature, thick, tortoise shell glasses, and the permanent air of drowsiness she carried, Shelby was about as far as you could get from a stealthy assassin. She'd caught Marceline completely off guard all the same.

"Hi Shell. There a reason you're screaming loud enough to wake the dead?" Marceline held back a groan. She'd gotten lost in her own head trying to dredge up ancient history again.

"Sorry! I didn't mean to be so loud but you were completely zoned out."

Another voice chose that moment to chime in. "We were worried you went and died standing up or something girl."

'No LSP. I died pinned beneath the Vampire King right before I staked his ass.' Marceline kept that to herself, but called back to the disembodied voice, "Nope. Your still stuck with me Lisa. Lucky you huh?"

The only response from Lisa Savannah Petty (LSP for short.) was a scoff from the other side of the laboratory staff locker room. Marceline was fine with that. She and third phlebotomist had never gotten on all that well. Being civil to each other in front of patients was about the best they could manage. Shelby, on the other hand, was a different story. Marceline saw genuine concern when she looked back at shorter woman, and was quick to dispel it.

"Sorry I worried you Shell. I was just trying to remember some things that happened a long time ago." When Shelby's grey blue eyes retained their cautious concern, Marceline upped her game. With the kind of ease that comes from almost a century of practice, Marceline slipped just a touch of vampiric Influence into what she said next. " _I promise I'm just fine Shelby. You don't need to worry about anything."_

The hypnotic suggestion had the desired effect. Shelby stared at her glassy eyed for half a second, then said, "Well, so long as you're okay Marcy." After that, the younger woman smiled her usual, tired smile, and went back to her own locker. Her short brown hair bobbed a bit from the extra spring in her step, but other than the usual, short lived haze of contentment, there wouldn't be any substantial side effects from so little Influence. Marceline should know. It was a substantial part of the "charm" that Bongo was so wrong to doubt.

With that out of the way, Marceline turned back to her own locker, and set about finishing her preshift rituals. She had already changed into the burgundy scrub pants and top that were standard for lab personnel. She'd traded her boots for a comfy pair of vintage, red converses, because, as much as she loved her designer boots, they just were not meant for literal miles of walking. That just left her eye check and ego boost. Like pretty much _all_ vampires, Marceline avoided mirrors like the plague. The only thing that could give away one of the living dead faster than their lack of a reflection was bursting into flames in direct sunlight. 'Luckily,' she thought as she pulled out her mobile, 'humans are such inventive creatures.' A few quick keystrokes, and Marceline was free to examine herself using the phones camera. She didn't like what she saw.

Marceline's original eye color had been lost with the rest of her humanity. Ever since she was Turned, her irises had become a vivid scarlet. She normally hid the abnormal red color behind dark brown contacts, but that solution wasn't perfect. In addition to their ruby hugh, Marceline's eyes also produced a supernatural red glow from within when she was either extremely angry or hungry. After two straight days off and without the chance to feed, the scarlet glow was just barely visible through the contacts. The glow wasn't blatantly obvious yet, but she'd need blood before the night was through.

"You sure take a shit ton of selfies Marceline."

Marceline felt her jaw drop. She just barely managed to pull her lips in, and hide her fangs before giving LSP a look that clearly said, "Did _you_ really just say that to _me?!"_

The curvy blonde just shrugged her shoulders. "What? You like, always have your phone on camera mode, and turned toward you. What else could you be doing? It is kinda weird though. I mean, what do you do with all those selfies anyway? You don't have a Facebook or anything to post them to, because you're all like weird about social media and junk. I know you're not dating anyone right now, so like what do you do with them. Do you just like looking at yourself that much? That's _really_ narcissistic Marceline."

… It was times like this that made Marceline regret her vow never to kill humans.

"Lisa, you do know that _all_ of the social media stuff you keep up with is about 99.999 % photos of yourself right?"

"Yeah. Duh."

"You even have a t-shirt that has a picture of you in a micro bikini, with 'Perfection' written underneath it."

"I can't hide the truth, girl."

Another one of the many, many things Marceline had learned in her almost hundred years was when to pick her battles. This one was clearly a lost cause. "You're right LSP. Nobody can hide the truth about themselves. I know I can't." LSP's sage nod even managed to take the fun out of Marceline's favorite running joke. What was the point of making witty remarks and puns about her vampirism when she could probably levitate or shapeshift into a bat right in front of Lisa without the other woman even noticing?

"Good talk LSP. Glad we had it." Marceline tried to let it go with that, she really did, but it seemed like fate was just not on her side tonight. When she reached down into the pocket of her messenger bag for her brush and something to put her hair back with, she only found the brush. There were no scrunchies, no hair bands, no hairpins, no rubber bands, nothing. She was completely out of stock, but she did know _exactly_ where most of her stash had gone…

"Hey Lisa, would you give me one of my scrunchies back?"

"Can't."

" _... What?_ "

"All I have is the one I'm wearing."

"What happened to the others?"

"I dunno."

"Well then give me the one you're wearing."

"Can't. I need it more."

"No you don't! Your hair isn't even that long!"

"Still need it."

Marceline felt her temper flare as she growled, " _Give. It. To. Me."_ The blonde just crossed her arms, and shot a challenging glare back at her. Marceline didn't even realize she'd used her Influence again until Shelby's eyes glassed over, and she started to reach for LSP's head. With another, softer growl, Marceline managed to reel in her temper and her power in time to keep Shelby from ripping out a fistful of LSP's bottle-blonde hair.

"... You know what? Fuck it. I don't care. Just grab a roll of Coflex for me, Yeah?"

"Sure." Lisa probably thought she was out of hearing range when she added, "Because I'm obvs nothing but The Great Marceline's slave."

Marceline tuned the rest out as LSP left the locker room, and a slightly dazed Shelby followed. Influence was a wonderful thing, but it only worked on people who were weak in either mind or will. The mild case of narcolepsy Shell had left her mind almost constantly a little foggy, and, as a result, she was very receptive to the hypnotic ability. Lisa was a very different matter. Despite the ditzy blonde act the other woman liked to play up, LSP's mind was actually pretty sharp (when she bothered to use it), and her willpower was second to none. Trying to sway her with Influence was like trying to chisel through concrete with a toothpick. No matter how much their personalities might clash, Marceline would always grudgingly respect her for that.

With the other two women gone, Marceline shut her locker, and made her way over to the bulletin board on the rooms far wall. It was time for her favorite part of her pre work routine: basking in her own awesomeness. Above the ancient corkboard and all the announcements pinned to it was a cheap wooden plaque that sported a photo of her with the caption "Marceline The Vampire Queen" at the bottom. It was the phlebotomist version of an employee of the month award, given to the person with the most successful blood draws and best patient feedback. Marceline had held the title more or less since she walked in the door, and it never stopped being funny to her. For the latest photo, she had even gone all out with white face paint, dark eye makeup, black lipstick and nail polish, a pair of plastic vampire teeth, and no contacts. Everyone who used the lab's locker room walked right past a picture of her _trying_ to look like a vampire, and they were all still completely clueless. Grod, this was just too much fun.

When the locker room door opened a minute later, Marceline didn't bother looking away to catch the plastic package LSP chucked at her head. It wasn't like she needed to anyway. When she did look down at the package and the roll of self-adhering gauze bandages inside she cursed her "no killing people" policy again.

"Really?! Blue! LSP what the fu-"

"Easy Marcy. Here." Shelby poked her head in, and held out a roll of Coflex in the incognito vampire's preferred red. If Marceline had enough blood in her system to blush she would have.

"Thanks Shell."

"Don't mention it. And don't kill Lisa, okay? I don't wanna have to take care of the entire hospital with just three people like we did back at Christmas."

Marceline was quick to put her hair back with a long strip of the right color Coflex, and head out into the lab proper after that. She tossed the other roll into the sample collection cart LSP was prepping hard enough to show her ire, but she let the other phlebotomist be after that. Instead, she turned her focus to finding charged battery packs, and then setting up the electronics she'd need for the night. In no time she had a handheld computer, mobile printer, and a bluetooth all ready to go.

Marceline got her first pleasant surprise of the night when she went to grab a collection cart of her own. There were already two carts stocked, locked, and ready to rock sitting by the labs main double doors. The fact that Shelby and Lisa hadn't already taken them could only mean one thing. Sure enough, when she checked the small alcove that served as the lab staff's office space, Marceline found her favorite living, sane, non cursed human sitting at one of the desks.

The first time Marceline laid eyes on Castiel Whitegrave, she was positive that she'd accidentally been poaching in a fellow vampire's feeding grounds. The twenty something phlebotomist's pale skin, unusually sharp teeth, and calm, emotionally detached demeanor made him a dead ringer for an old fashioned vamp; however, despite first impressions, Cas was human. If the still beating heart in his chest didn't prove it, then the sterling silver chain and crucifix he always wore under his scrubs definitely did. Unfortunately for the poor kid, the hospital's staff and patients didn't know near as much about the living dead as Marceline, and Castiel was the butt of so many vampire jokes it wasn't funny. Well, it actually was pretty damn funny, but only because so many people ignored the _actual_ bloodsucker in the room in favor of him.

The mistaken species thing made their first meeting stilted and awkward, but Marceline had warmed up to the man pretty quickly after that. Castiel had, in turn, developed a soft spot for the impish new addition to night shift. Now, six months later, Marceline had tentatively classified her newest partner in crime as a "friend." After all, only friends could bicker and fight like they did without killing each other. Right?

"You do know that you can do this," Marceline gestured to the playing cards spread out in what looked like a game of solitaire, "waaaaaaaay faster and easier on a computer, right Cas?"

There was no way he'd heard her coming, but, if Marceline's stealthy approach had spooked Cas at all, he didn't let it show. He didn't even look up from his game. "True, but if I played on a computer then I wouldn't be able to do this." Cas pulled the top card of the deck with a flourish, and held it up to show her the laughing joker on it. "I don't even need to ask. This is _definitely_ your card."

Marceline gave the most sarcastic "ah" of amazement she could muster. Castiel was fond of sleight of hand card tricks and other stage magic. His little tricks were cute, but they were nothing compared to the things she'd seen Simon do back in his prime. That thought was an especially sad one for Marceline. Cas's eyes were icy blue instead of dark brown. His hair was sandy blonde, cut short and gelled into spikes instead of chestnut brown, long, and unruly. His personality was the polar opposite of the only man she'd ever called father, but none of that changed the fact that his face was _hauntingly_ similar to Simon's.

"Sooo… What? You spent your time off staring off into space, and making your other friends worry about you."

… Shit. She'd gotten lost in her own head again. "What? No. Sorry I've just got a lot on my mind right now. I spaced out in the locker room earlier too." The truth was the only real option this time. Marceline was a consummate liar, but Cas must have been too. He would have to be to spot her bullshit as consistently as he did. The man was also even less receptive to Influence than LSP was. If she had lied, he probably would have known, and he probably would have pressed for the truth. He and Simon had that in common too.

Cas eyed her a little skeptically for a moment while he gathered his deck of cards back up. Eventually he said, "Riiiiight. You might wanna get that under control before you start stabbing needles into people tonight." Nevermind. Castiel was a sarcastic asshole. The man was absolutely nothing like-

"Marce… I know you're a super tough goth slash punk rocker who can take care of her damn self, but if you ever _do_ need someone to have your back…" Cas didn't finish, but the sentiment was already there. Maybe she should see if there was some Petrikov buried in his family tree after all.

Marceline gave him a lopsided grin. "You will be the absolute _last_ person I call."

"Good. Glad we're on the same page."

A change of subject was definitely in order. "So, Shelby and LSP have 4 and 5 handled. You want Ward 3 or the Units?" It wasn't a very subtle redirection, but they needed to sort that out anyway. Cas held up a fist in response, and Marceline rolled her eyes before copying the gesture. They really needed a better way to do this.

"1, 2, 3, SHOOT!" Marceline held out two fingers while Cas kept his fist closed.

"Bullshit! How do you always do that?"

"With almost no effort."

"You have to be cheating somehow."

"Nah. I just knew you were gonna pick scissors."

"How?"

"Weeeell…" Cas waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Marceline felt her temper flare again. "Seriously?! I'm a lesbian, so I'm automatically going to pick scissors?!"

"Of course not Marceline." Cas crossed his arms, and shot her a teasing smile. "It's not because you're a lesbian. It's because you're a total pervert. Don't give me that look. You're the one who made the 'better finger action' joke."

Oh that was it! Marceline growled and lunged for her friend with every intention of choking that smug look off his face. Somehow, that didn't happen. Somehow, Cas was up, and out of the swivel chair before she could get a hold of him. Technically that shouldn't be possible for a normal human, but Marceline had more pressing matters to deal with now. With no annoying human to absorb the impact, Marceline's predatory lunge turned into a belly flop. She landed stomach first on the office chair, and her momentum caused it to tilt. The next thing Marceline knew, the tile floor was rushing up to meet her face alarmingly fast. She started to use some low key levitation to slow her fall, but she was jerked to a sudden stop before she could access her powers. Marceline looked over her shoulder to see Cas with a death grip on the back of the chair and genuine concern on his face.

After getting the office chair back on its wheels, Cas reached out to help her up, and asked, "You alright Marcy?"

Once she was back on her feet, Marceline punched him in the shoulder hard enough to make him yelp in pain. "Just peachy Cas. Thanks."

Cas let out a relieved breath despite being in obvious pain. "Thank God." He brought a hand up to rub at his shoulder, and started for the carts he'd left for them earlier. Apparently he hadn't learned his lesson though. "It would look pretty bad on me if I let my trusty sidekick knock herself out cold right in front of me.

Marceline just rolled her eyes, and followed. Was it just instinctual for men to try to cover up any showing of their kind, squishy sides with jackassery, or did they have to learn it somewhere? "We've had this talk before Cas. I am not the Robin in this relationship."

"Well you can hardly be Batman. You don't have the right equipment."

"Keep it up, Whitegrave, and you won't have the 'right equipment' anymore either."

Cas looked back with wide eyes. "You'd really take away my utility belt?"

That got a loud bark of laughter out of her. "Knock it off Cas. We got work to do." Marceline hit the button for the lab's automatic doors, and wheeled one of collection carts out toward the service elevator. "You know, you did _technically_ win, but you never said which ward you wanted." Of course, it wasn't like she didn't already know which one he would pick. Ward 3 was the second most difficult one to work, but Ward 2, home of the emergency care unit and intensive care unit, was the reason it was only second. The choice was a no brainer. Cas started to answer, but stopped to listen to the familiar pair of voices now coming towards them.

"I'm telling you Billy, she's totally amazing. I think I'm in love!"

"I'm listening Finn. I've just heard it all before. A lot."

Marceline and Cas shared a knowing grin. Soon enough a weary looking Billy Copeland and an all too excited Finn Mertens rounded the nearest corner. The two security guards were probably supposed to be doing their last check of the building before Billy left, but Finn obviously had other things on his mind.

"New lady in your life Finn?" Marceline asked the hospital's night guard. She caught Billy mouthing, "Kill me." to Cas once Finn's attention was on her.

"Oh my God Marcy, you won't believe it. There's a new doctor who started tonight. She's super smart, and she's so beautiful, and just…" Finn paused for affect, "perfect."

Cas snorted. "Perfect huh? When's the honeymoon Finn?"

The younger man flushed slightly. "Umm…"

Billy chose that moment to cut in. "Well, thing is, she might be a little _too_ perfect." Billy rested one of his massive hands on Finn's shoulder before adding, "Don't feel too bad. Happens to the best of us son."

"Ooooh. She shot you down huh?" Marceline tried to sound sympathetic. Judging by Finn's face she failed. "Sorry guy. I'm sure Dr. Perfect will come around."

Finn squinted back at her for a moment. "You're already planning what you're gonna say to her aren't you?"

"... It's a possibility."

Billy used the hand on Finn's shoulder to steer him towards the nearest exit. "Come on Finn. I want to get home sometime tonight, and we still need to inspect the grounds before I hand the keys over." If Finn had any objections, he kept quiet about them.

Finn wasn't always the sharpest guy around, but he'd been dead right this time. Marceline was indeed going over conversation starters in her head. It was too bad Finn had struck out, but that didn't mean she had to pass on getting to know the 'perfect' new doctor. Marceline ran through possible scenarios in her head from the time Billy and Finn left until Cas held his hand out to stop her from getting off the elevator on the second floor.

"Uh, what are you doing Cas?"

"You know Marce, I think I'll take the Units tonight."

Marceline turned to stare open-mouthed at her friend, because _of course_ he wanted Ward 2 _now._ Where else was a new doctor who was doing a rotation on nights going to spend _all_ of her time? As Cas wheeled his cart out onto the floor Dr. Perfect was almost definitely on, all she could think to say was, "You motherfucker."

"Look at it this way Marce: at least now you don't have to worry about making a fool out of yourself in front of a pretty girl tonight."

Marceline managed to stick her arm out, and stop the elevator doors from closing just in time to flip him off.


End file.
